When a Fuzzy is Captured
by Koriat Cyredanthem
Summary: AU. Lycurgus, Raghu, and Donovan search for their brother while Mahfuz must play the Quiet Game against three scientists. Letting the humans know he is intelligent will bring disaster upon his family, not to mention pizza-less dinners for, like, ever! But little does Fuz know that going pizza-less is better than what his own family will do to him when they rescue him...
1. The Capture

_Please note: Mafuz = Mikey, Raghu = Raph, Lycurgus = Leo, and Donovan = Donny. They're named differently because the whole idea behind them was that they would stick out in a role play, because we had lots of Leos/Dons/Raphs/Mikeys with suffixes or affixes. These guys were meant to simplify our lives in the chat with their names. They will also serve a purpose if I ever get around to writing some cross-dimensional stories._

**Disclaimer: I own Fuz and Gus; LK owns Raghu and Donovan. The original turtles are property of someone… Not me.**

**Chapter 1: The Capture**

"Keep your back safe, Fuz!" Raghu ordered, golden-brown eyes flashing as he pushed himself to his feet, straightening to his 5'10" height, towering over his little brother. His right arm bled sluggishly, the red blood running down his medium green skin and over the red bandana tied near his elbow. Raghu growled and shoved Fuz away as the youngest tried to check his wound; the turtle stumbled and nimbly ducked under a ninja's blade. "Get your head in the fight!" Raghu threw one of his knives into the eye of a ninja and palmed another throwing knife in his right hand; he lashed out at his enemies with the wickedly sharp blade, almost a foot long, in his left hand.

Mahfuz backed away, twirling his nunchucks into his attacker's face. The sharp spikes destroyed the human's cheek; he screamed and clawed at his face as Fuzzy pulled his nunchuck out and whipped it into another ninja's groin. His blue eyes twinkled with concentration; his pale skin seemed to glow slightly in the neon light from the nearby billboard sign, the only light up on the rooftop where he and his brothers fought the Foot ninjas. He was shorter than almost all of the humans at only 5'2", his shell and plastron a dark brown.

Donovan used the sharp blades embedded in his Bo to slice through his enemies. He had started the night trying to knock them out with the duller side of his Bo, but as they showed up thicker and thicker, he was forced to use his blades to keep up. He was four inches taller than Fuzzy, the same height as Lycurgus, and he had darker skin than the youngest. His light brown eyes searched for his next target as he whapped a human in the back, slicing into the spinal cord.

Lycurgus fought his way out of a tangle of bodies, using his wickedly sharp katanas to slice arteries, tendons, and – where possible – eyes. Master Splinter had taught him how to avoid getting his katanas stuck in bone, for without them, he and his brothers were at a great disadvantage. His rich brown eyes struck fear in his enemies, as did his heavily scarred light brown shell and dark gold plastron, testaments to the skills of the brothers of the men he faced.

Taking a moment during a lull in the battle, Lycurgus surveyed the battle area. Several ninjas were groaning and holding in intestines, while others didn't move. There were still scattered groups; Mahfuz was hard-pressed to keep a group of them off. Lycurgus went to help him but was stopped when Donovan cried out in both fear and anger as he was sliced across his arm; the eldest had to get to the braniac first.

He drove his katanas into the bodies of two ninjas and jerked them free, feeling a rush of satisfaction as arterial blood sprayed from their chests. He didn't like killing, but knowing that his enemies wouldn't come back left him feeling a certain satisfaction.

Donovan nodded in thanks and took a breather, leaning on his Bo. Lycurgus quickly checked his brother's injury – it wasn't bleeding badly, but it would slow Don down. It sliced with the grain of his bicep, at least.

Lycurgus left Donovan to patch himself up and moved to Mahfuz's side. A good ninja gave him a few seconds pause; he finally managed to kill him and turned back to the youngest. Fuzzy was doing his best to keep a clear space around him, but as the eldest watched, a ninja jumped in and stabbed the turtle with a needle.

Somewhere behind Lycurgus, Raghu roared. The biggest turtle was a blur as he launched himself at the ninja. Lycurgus cleaned up the rest of the ninjas as Donovan held Fuzzy up.

"Fuzzy, stay awake," Donovan said quietly, slapping the youngest gently. "We need to get out of here," he told his older brothers.

Lycurgus surveyed the rooftop. Raghu snorted and twirled his knives around in nervous tension. While they had been distracted, more ninja had come – about twenty in all. "Protect Fuzzy. We need to get underground," Raghu ordered. Lycurgus nodded. He was usually the leader, but being mute was dangerous if he was in charge during a fight. The two eldest were very good at communicating silently, though, and Raghu worked seamlessly as Lycurgus's second in command.

Lycurgus and Raghu fought to keep the ninjas from approaching Donovan and Mahfuz. The braniac defended himself and the littlest turtle from the occasional enemy that slipped around the eldest brothers.

Mahfuz was clearly unconscious, and deeply; he didn't respond when Donovan tripped over him and crashed to his shell, skidding along the rooftop until he finally hit his head on the edge. He saw stars and dropped his Bo; Raghu called his name, but the braniac was too confused to answer.

The big turtle wanted to go to Don's aid but was pressed by a ninja too good with a single katana to be a new recruit. Raghu growled and disemboweled the man, but it cost precious moments. He cleared a space around himself and looked for his brothers. Lycurgus was hard-pressed by a newly-arrived Elite, circling and lunging ferociously. He snarled silently; Raghu looked away and searched for Donovan. The braniac was struggling to his feet, holding a hand to a gash on his head. Raghu couldn't see Mahfuz and started to panic.

"Fuz!" Raghu called, working his way through the bodies to where his brother had been. The youngest was missing. Donovan finally managed to shake his confusion and raced to Raghu's side. "Where is he?" Raghu demanded.

"I… Dunno," Donovan answered breathlessly. "I think I blacked out a bit…"

Raghu left Donovan to protect himself and made his way through the entire battlefield in case Fuz had woken and crawled to a safer place. He put down the last of the ninjas with a knife through the eye, clearing the rooftop. Lycurgus joined the search; they even went to the alleyway below in case the youngest had fallen off the roof in confusion.

As the moments ticked by, all three started to panic.

_If he's hiding, I will kill him myself,_ Raghu seethed, opening a dumpster. He yelped as a rat launched itself at his face and batted it aside, but there was no sign of Fuzzy.

"We must find him," Lycurgus signaled, using a special sign language he and Raghu had developed. Donovan nodded.

"Could the Foot have taken him?"

"It's possible. Call Sensei and tell him we're going after them." Raghu translated for Lycurgus. The two eldest went back up to the roof to find the trail of their enemies. Donovan called their Sensei, explained the situation, and then caught up to his brothers. They easily followed the ninjas – several left blood trails over the rooftops and in the alleys.

Lycurgus growled. He didn't know why they would capture one of his brothers – their agenda had always been to kill. However, he didn't like it, since change in the Foot clan meant new tactics.

_~~Elsewhere~~_

Fuzzy groaned and inhaled sharply as a throbbing pain behind his eyes brought on a headache. He carefully opened his eyes – the room was dark. He was lying on a stone floor. Did Don put him on the floor of the lair? Why? And why weren't the lights on?

"Don? Gus?" Mahfuz sat up and tried to look around, but it was very dark – he couldn't even see any lights from the TVs and video game consoles usually in the living room. Was he in the infirmary?

Cold silence answered him. Fuzzy was worried – were his brothers busy with someone else's injuries? He didn't feel too bad – his neck hurt, and his headache wasn't going away – so he sat up, automatically drawing his legs to himself.

"You are awake." Mahfuz blinked. The voice came from everywhere, and it wasn't any of his brothers, or his father. He stood, holding his head as his vision spun and – well, it would have turned dark, but he couldn't see anyway.

"Lights." Fuz grunted and flung an arm over his eyes as white light bombarded his eyes. His headache roared into a furious migraine, pounding at his temples like the mallets he used on his refurbished Whack-a-Mole game.

Mahfuz blinked tears from his eyes and squinted. Slowly, almost so slowly he could feel it, his pupils shrank and he realized the room was much smaller than even the infirmary. He could stretch out his hands and easily touch all four walls.

His kneepads and elbow pads were gone, as were his nunchucks. Though ridiculous, he felt naked and searched for his belongings. They weren't in the room – it was bare, and made of stone blocks mortared together like the old dungeons in Don's history shows. The only ornament was a single black blob on the ceiling, which was too far away to touch. The room was disorienting – almost ten feet tall, Fuz guessed, but about five feet wide and long. He felt like he was in a cracker box.

Behind him, he heard the characteristic _hiss_ any science fiction geek would know – that of a pneumatic door opening. He whirled and found himself face-to-face with a human. Blinking rapidly, Mahfuz clapped his beak shut. Master Splinter had told them – endlessly, it felt – not to speak to humans.

_Time to play dumb,_ Fuzzy told himself. _Maybe they didn't hear you… _He hoped so. Fuz backed away, dropping his shoulders and trying to imitate Raghu in a mood. _Be afraid, _he thought at the human. _Be very afraid._

"It's okay." The human's voice was smaller when coming only from her - Mahfuz could see the lumps human called breasts on the human's chest – mouth. She had deep blue eyes, raven-black hair that was cut into a centimeter-long fuzz, and was white-skinned, almost pale enough that he imagined she didn't get outside all that often. She was two inches taller than him, Fuzzy guessed – around 5'4", perfectly average in both height and build, though perhaps a little heavy around the hips for his taste.

It was obvious that she was trying to calm him down; Mahfuz reacted as any scared, unhappy, and disoriented animal would – he stood a little straighter and tilted his head. _Be nice to me. I'm defenseless and stupid. _

Somewhere in his head, Mahfuz heard Raghu snort. _That's fer sure,_ his brother's voice snickered.

"Look, food." The human put a head of lettuce on the ground. Fuz stared at it. _Seriously? Well… Sure, turtle-looking, but you could at least offer it on a plate…_ "Yum yum yum." She crouched and looked slightly away, a hand in her pocket crinkling something. "Mmmm yummy."

Mahfuz struggled to contain himself. The human was dealing with him like a skittish dog. But he had to play the part – he moved forward slightly, making wet sniffing noises. With a glance at the human, he snatched the lettuce – from the _ground_ – and scurried as far away as he could. Though he didn't like it, he opened his mouth and gnawed on the lettuce head.

"Good girl."

Fuzzy almost spat the lettuce out on the human. _Girl? Do I _look_ like a girl? _Sure, he was a _mutant_ turtle, but surely these humans could tell just by looking at his plastron. It curved into his body, not away. He did keep his claws short, but still! He was also small. He'd speculated about Raghu being female, though – he was much bigger than the rest of them. But Fuz didn't dare bring that up to the biggest turtle.

Mahfuz concentrated on chewing the lettuce until he noticed the human standing only a couple feet from him, studying him. He growled at her over his lettuce head and scooted away, towards the now-closed door.

"Shhh… It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." _Yeah, okay, _Mahfuz thought to himself, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I know you can understand me." _No, you don't. _Mahfuz almost smacked himself; he was having a conversation, even if the human only heard half of it.

"We heard you talk earlier. Who is Don? Your owner? And Gus?"

Mahfuz ignored her resolutely, making a show of licking his fingers after he finished the lettuce. He sat down in a corner and turned his shell on the human. She huffed and told him, "You will find your time here much easier if you speak." The door _hissed_ as it opened and closed.

Fuzzy sighed to himself. He just had to keep acting dumb and wait for his brothers to rescue him. He would probably have to do a ton of punishment training for getting caught, but he would do it happily if he could eat pizza again. The lettuce stuck to the back of his throat and he wished for a glass of water to wash it down with, while he was at it.

_Maybe I can pantomime it… Like to my "owners," _Fuzzy snickered to himself. The black blob on the ceiling was either mold or a camera, and Fuzzy was willing to bet it was the latter. They had been able to hear him somehow, too. He scanned the room again and then scratched at a corner at random, making whimpering noises. _I do play a rather convincing animal, if I do say so myself._

"What do you want?" That woman's voice came back. Fuzzy pretended to start and search frantically for whatever was speaking. A gusty sigh came through the speakers – wherever they were. "Just ask and you shall receive, beast."

_I'm much more handsome than the Beast! If it was a choice between the Beast and me, Belle would definitely go for me. Who couldn't fall for this? _Mahfuz was a lot more handsome to human females in his mind than they seemed to show. Perhaps they were awed by his awesomeness and so could only scream and run. He preferred that to… Well, the real explanation.

Fuzzy pointed at his mouth and coughed. The voice sighed again. "If you're going to throw up, use the bucket." A bucket appeared through a chute, landing in the corner to the right of the door. Fuz almost shook his head, but remembered just in time that he couldn't react. He pointed more urgently.

"Perhaps the animal requires water." This voice was definitely male; it sounded like that generic man voice in commercials.

A bowl sloshed water as it was pushed – by a human hand – through a trapdoor opposite the bucket's corner. Mahfuz leapt on it and decided he could finally do something he'd been itching to try – drinking water like a dog. However, he soon found it way more messy and very inefficient, since he couldn't curl his tongue. So he stuck his face in and drank deeply. He emptied the bowl, feeling much better, and retreated to the wall opposite the door. Using his hands, he scrubbed the lettuce bits from his "meal" off his face.

_~~In the Observation Booth~~_

Juliet marveled at the creature. It had learned some basic human signals, obviously – perhaps to communicate with its previous owners. She had so many questions about it, about its life. Where had it come from? Why wasn't it all over the news? Judging by the scarring and aging signs, it was nearly an adult. She had no clue how long it would have taking this being to reach full maturity. Turtles grew to adulthood quickly, and this creature seemed very turtle-like. Humans were slower at it, taking just over 20 years from birth. She would have to observe its growth behavior for at least a year to determine just how slowly it would approach maturity. Juliet wrote a memo to herself, to add tests for any spikes in hormones that would indicate that the creature was in heat, another sign of maturity.

It was obviously bipedal, however, which led to more questions – specifically about its skeletal and muscular structure. Did it have a spine like a vertebrate, or were its ribs – if it had any, she reminded herself – attached to its shell? Could it pull its limbs into its shell? The arms and legs looked too long, but with this creature, anything seemed possible.

Though Juliet was technically a biologist, she had interests in many fields, and had studied nearly every discipline in the scientific community. It obviously breathed oxygen; it seemed to have lungs. While it was out, she had observed its ribcage – or chest area, really – rising and falling like a human's, though only about two or three millimeters, barely enough to notice.

She couldn't wait to get her hands on its bloods and fluid for tests. Her boss had told her to wait until it was healed, but judging by the rapid recovery rate – the wound was already scabbed by the time she had been given permission to approach it – it would be a matter of a couple days. Until then, Juliet planned to use her team of psychologists to figure out how best to communicate with the creature.

It had spoken before – Don and Gus. Either they were names of its owners, or it was speaking gibberish. Juliet didn't know where it had been found, nor what had gone into subduing it – the muscle tone in the creature spoke of great strength, and it seemed to have a natural grace. It was fast – it had plucked the lettuce from the floor nearly so quickly that she didn't see it. An odd quality for a turtle – they were generally clumsy on land, and slow by reputation, though she knew, from experience with a nasty snapper in a pond once, that they could move quickly if they had to.

"Are the new quarters prepared?" The man speaking behind her, John, was a cold-hearted scientist. She had heard rumors that he was behind many unorthodox experiments involving animals and dangerous tests. He did not seem to enjoy learning; Juliet rather suspected he enjoyed having the power to dominate a creature. His hazel eyes anxiously scanned the data readings on the monitors. John had an annoying habit when distracted – he would curl a finger through his shoulder-length blonde hair. With his tan skin and muscular, but not overly so, build, he looked more like he belonged on the cover of "Surfer Times" than in a lab. He towered over Juliet by about five inches.

The last few hours had been spent cleaning out a large room and digging through the concrete floor to prepare a large terrarium. Fake shrubbery had been being installed when Juliet last checked; the man John was talking to answered that they were just filling the pool with freshwater now. The creature did not have apparent gills, so they had opted against an aquarium, but since it did seem to resemble a red eared slider, a common turtle, they had decided to provide a pool deep enough to submerge in, complete with sunning logs and rocks on the bank.

John turned next to another scientist in the booth. A team of specialists where studying the items that had come with the creature; it had had some sort of padding on its elbows and knees plus wicked-looking Bruce Lee nunchucks. They reported that the padding had been altered from skateboarding or biking gear, and sewn with a small, delicate stitch – much too small for the large fingers on the turtle-thing itself. The nunchucks were smeared with blood, both newer and older – indicated it fought often. Judging by the scars on the turtle, which were few, it had been abused or forced to fight, like a rooster in a cock-fighting ring.

Juliet wasn't sure what to think about that. If this creature had been seen in a fighting ring before, surely someone would have spoken of it. That said it might have been abused, so Juliet was instructed to be very gentle, calm – and cautious. A threatened animal, if faced with a new threat, might finally snap.

Somehow, though, Juliet felt a connection to the creature. Not only as one of the most important scientific discoveries of the millennia – studying its healing abilities alone would probably provide some good insight into regeneration for humans – but as an intelligent being. Something in its eyes, she supposed – though she had broken eye contact quickly, as instructed, so as to not present herself as a threat.

"It's time to move it," John told her. Juliet glanced at the clock – it was nearly lunch time. "We'll let it get accustomed to its new quarters and feed it."

"Let's try putting more of a salad in. I don't think she liked the lettuce," a technician suggested nearby. She was a behavioral psychologist with something akin to a sixth sense when it came to animals. Kristen had worked with large animals in zoos around the world when they were injured or uncooperative. Her green eyes were quiet, her brown hair straight as a board as it fell past her shoulders. She was only a couple inches taller than Juliet , but her lean and muscular frame and panther-like grace bespoke power. Kristen could just as easily charm a pain-crazed animal as she could pin a struggling young lion to the ground to medicate it.

Juliet was surrounded by taller people; somehow, she felt, the national statistic for average height for a female had to be skewed. Perhaps she was in the wrong field, or working in the wrong line of work.

"We should vary her diet until we find something she likes. She'll feel more comfortable if she eats familiar foods," Kristen continued. She always referred to animals as if they were human enough to understand her.

"What would its owner have fed it?" John asked, eyebrow raised.

Kristen shrugged. "Look at her teeth. Pump her stomach – oh, wait, you already fed her lettuce." This lady was the only one would dared criticize John, but Juliet agreed with the taller woman. "If she is a carnivore, try cooked meat first. If she appears to be an herbivore, offer a variety of dishes. If she is an herbivore, try a more diverse bit of a salad. Lettuce isn't exactly filling, especially when only fed one head."

"Make it happen," John ordered another technician. The man hopped to. "You two, come with me. We'll escort it to its new home." Kristen and Juliet followed John and his two picked technicians.

"Allow me," Kristen suggested. "It is likely agitated by now."

"The lettuce had a calming agent in it. We'll be fine." John brushed her aside and opened the door to the creature's enclosure. It was sitting against the far wall, but stood when John and the two men walked in. Juliet watched intently – it stood like a human, though it didn't seem to need to push itself off the wall. It surveyed them, dropping its shoulders and sliding one leg backwards slightly.

Kristen sucked in a breath quietly; Juliet turned to look at her. "She's going to charge," Kristen murmured, moving out of the doorway and pulling the shorter woman with her. "She wants her space," Kristen said just loudly enough for John to hear. "Let her be."

John was about to answer when it attacked. It launched itself bodily at the three men, moving rapidly. John grunted by managed to keep his feet, though his helpers were not so lucky. They fell, and the turtle leapt over them. Kristen was in the doorway, and the creature hesitated.

"Shhhh," she murmured, doing something with her hand. Juliet and the creature both looked to see what her hand was doing, and John took the opportunity to stab the animal with a needle. Or at least tried; the turtle slid away from the attack. Juliet could _swear_ it smiled, but it was hard to tell.

"Calm down," Kristen said authoritatively. The creature glanced at her, but circled away from John carefully. "Sit." Juliet could see that Kristen was trying to see if the creature had been taught any basic commands – perhaps, if it attacked them, it was just as aggressive to its previous handler. "Stop. Heel. Stay. Whoa."

It snorted and shook its head, obviously trying to solve something. Juliet could literally feel the cogs in its mind turning as it tried to figure out what Kristen was trying to tell it. It cocked its head and lowered its hands slightly; Kristen relaxed a tad.

"Stay," she repeated. "Back." It moved backwards obediently, turning slightly sideways and diverting its gaze to the ground. Kristen moved forward, her legs stiff, head high, arms held out slightly. "Stand still."

It didn't understand that; it kept backing up into the wall and then just stood there, looking away. John growled and moved forward; Kristen shot him a murderous look. "Do not interfere," she said loudly. "If you do, it will tell him that I am not the alpha here, and he might attack again. Just let me calm him down."

_He? _Juliet wondered to herself, silently moving into the room. _But… It has short claws like a female turtle. _She looked at its plastron and blinked – it seemed to be flat, not rounded like a female's. When it was unconscious, it had been on its plastron, so she hadn't been able to really examine it, and it had been whisked away before she could check for the cloaca.

"He's a male," Kristen said, as if hearing Juliet's thoughts. "Notice the flat plastron. His tail's very short, if it has one at all. His claws looked clipped; probably his previous owners, if he attacked them like he did us. He doesn't like humans. I wouldn't if I were you, either, big boy." She now spoke to the turtle, soothingly. "Big mean humans hurt you, didn't they?" Juliet would have chuckled if the situation wasn't so tense. It was obvious that the turtle – a "he" now, apparently – was still nervous. It moved constantly, as though it couldn't stay still, shifting from foot to foot.

"Would you like food?" Kristen stressed the "food" and it looked up, blinking. It had one set of eyelids, and Juliet couldn't tell if he also had a clear membrane covering the actual eyes. "I have lots of yummy food, but you need to behave yourself." It tilted its head again. "Just behave. Be good." The creature blinked, but seemed to understand. It held its hands out like a person waiting to be handcuffed; Kristen motioned for John to move in.

The turtle twitched when the man injected him, keeping its eyes on Kristen's face as it slowly sat down. It was out within moments, breathing silently. Kristen let out a breath and looked at Juliet. John and his helpers, who had stayed on the ground, trussed the animal up and carried it from the room.

Juliet pulled Kristen aside as they followed the men at a discrete distance. "He's definitely intelligent. He was acting in there," Kristen murmured. "He knew _exactly_ how to react to make it seem like he was confused. I've seen very smart chimps attempt it, but they usually can't. He's manipulating us."

Juliet chewed on that thought for a while. "Could it talk?" she finally asked.

"It spoke before, didn't it?"

"Just names. Perhaps it was parroting."

"Have you listened to that tape again?" Kristen flipped a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

"No. Why?"

"I think "Don" and "Gus" are friendlies to him. When he said those names, his voice wasn't overly stressed, but it still had some feeling in it. A parrot will imitate sounds it hears without knowing what they are, but this creature – we need a name for him – understood that he was calling for someone, and more importantly, he _wanted_ whoever owns those names to hear him."

"That's a lot of speculation," Juliet muttered.

Kristen shrugged. "That's what I do best."

They arrived at the new enclosure. The men had untangled the leads they had on the turtle, leaving the collar on, and were closing the door. John motioned for Juliet to join him and they went up to the Observation Booth. The room was a balmy 85°F, a little warm for a human. The creature was coldblooded, Juliet knew, but it also had sweat glands like a human; curious. The water would be kept at about 75°F, and the basking areas had heat lamps directly over them to keep them in around 90°F.

"Now we wait for it to wake up. The food is inside already."

"It will spoil in that heat," Kristen protested.

"It's already waking up," John noted, ignoring the psychologist. Juliet looked out through the camera's high-def eyes and observed as the turtle woke up.

_~~Down in the Enclosure~~_

Fuzzy groaned softly to himself. He could feel that headache again, but he could also feel grass – okay, probably fake turf – under his plastron. Sitting up slowly, Fuz looked around. He was in a whole new area. The grass under his feet was real, he noticed, but the bushes and trees weren't. Just ahead was a pool, just deep enough to submerge in; a large, flat rock to his right was obviously supposed to be for basking. There was a log in the middle of the lake, probably for the same purpose.

A salad, wilting in front of his eyes, was sitting on the ground to his left. His stomach rumbled – he hadn't eaten much before the patrol run, and the head of lettuce had hardly been more than a snack. He quickly stuffed down the lettuce leaves and tomatoes, leaving the spinach. He hated spinach, unless it was in a cheesy lasagna. Maybe on a pizza, if it was slathered in cheese.

Once satisfied, Fuz opted to go for a swim. His brothers would find him, surely; he had tried to escape, but had hesitated when he had seen a woman in the doorway. Master Splinter always talk them to be chivalrous to females, unless they attacked first – like Karai. That had been a mistake; he was barely avoided the tall man's needle and then had had to act dumb for the woman in the doorway.

The water was nice and cool, but not too cold. He splashed a little, discretely cleaning himself with the sand on the bottom of the pool. Mahfuz almost felt like himself again as he climbed out onto the rock and flopped on his plastron, barely restraining a contented sigh. Instead, he focused on draping himself on the rock as lazily as he could. The heat was intoxicating – he dozed, making sure he didn't actually fall asleep. His brothers often complained of how he talked in his sleep, and the last thing he needed was more fuel for the humans' cruelty. Fuz would let them complain – if they'd come rescue him.


	2. Time for Testing

_Please do review! I love hearing what readers think. Critiques are appreciated, flames will be doused by Fuzzy's leftover spinach. Also, if you notice a time discrepancy, please let me know. My sense of timing is terrible. Thanks! _

_I apologize for the delay; college move-in is hectic!_

_Disclaimer: I own Fuz, the scientists/OCs and Gus; LK owns Raghu and Don. The original TMNT concept, Splinter, Foot, Karai, and the Shredder are property of… whoever owns it now. _

**Chapter 2: Time for Testing**

Kristen stared at the screen. The turtle was lying on the rock, apparently asleep. The salad that had been left by the cleaning crew had been devoured, except for the spinach, yet again. She wrote a memo to take out the spinach and include some fruit instead. It had only been 3 days since the turtle had been delivered; it was May 9th.

All the turtle had done was eat, sleep, and bathe. He seemed to be acclimated to his enclosure. However, Kristen was still a little worried. An intelligent creature, such as this turtle, needed things to do or they could quickly fall into a bad mood, which could lead to a decrease in appetite and illness.

"Miss Bellavoe?" the technician stepped into the Observation Booth and Kristen looked up. "The toy you requested has arrived."

_Finally,_ she sighed to herself. "I will bring it in to him myself."

"It's heavy," the older man warned. Kristen waved away his caution and went to unpack the toy. It was a floating puzzle, basically, something to occupy the turtle while he was in the water and perhaps encourage more activity.

She loaded the foam pieces, coated with plastic to prevent him from eating the foam, onto a trolley and pushed it into the enclosure. Kristen shut the door firmly behind her; the turtle woke up and looked at her. She pretended to ignore him and moved to the pool's edge, tossing in the pieces of foam. They floated out in the tiny current made by the filter.

"That should be fun," she murmured. The turtle had tiny ear holes, so she murmured a little loudly. He cocked his head to the side and followed her movement avidly. He wasn't comfortable enough to set up a territory yet, but once he did, coming in and out could be dangerous unless she established herself in it. To do that, she spent hours just sitting near the door, watching him. He ignored her completely during those hours.

Kristen pulled a carrot from her pocket and gingerly approached the turtle. He let her get closer every time before moving away. Last time, she had nearly come within touching distance before he had slid off his rock and into the water. He watched her intently as she moved forward slowly until the carrot was within grabbing distance. Before she could advance farther, she suddenly felt a breeze and the carrot was gone. The turtle nibbled on it, still watching her warily.

Kristen grinned. Another breakthrough; he had accepted food directly from her hand. She watched carefully as he ate it just like a human, even the top. Kristen moved forward slowly, and though he tensed, he allowed her to sit on his rock and didn't move.

"It would be a lot easier on you if you would just talk to us. Tell us where you're from, what you are…" Kristen spoke softly but the turtle looked at her. She felt those eyes on her as she spoke, but didn't make eye contact. "Who are Don and Gus? Do you even _like_ salad?" She could have sworn the turtle snorted. "Do you have a name? We can't just keep calling you "the turtle" – how about Steve?" Again, that weird snort sound; she glanced at the turtle and caught an expression on his face that was quickly wiped away.

"No, I suppose Steve is a little too…typical. So that rules out "Bob," too. What about… Artemis?" She shook her head. "No, that's… Kind of girly. Okay… Sticking with the ancient-gods theme, how about Apollo?" She didn't receive a response, but she'd always kind of liked that name. Kristen sat there for a little longer until the turtle slipped off into the water. Hungry now, the human hopped off the rock and headed for the door. Behind her, the newly-named Apollo splashed in the water.

_~~Elsewhere~~_

"It's been three days, Fearless," Raghu growled, thumping a punching bag. "We should be out there. Looking for him."

Lycurgus shook his head. The part bad of summer – shorter nights. They couldn't go out until at least 10 PM. It was barely 7, but Raghu was already pummeling the innocent punching bag. The leader himself paced, as he was wont to do when agitated. Mahfuz had to have been captured, and Donovan was searching every server in the city looking for him. That work, at least, could be done during the day, but only one turtle could do it. Raghu got frustrated and would "solve" the computer's slowness issues with a knife through the motherboard. Lycurgus would somehow manage to freeze it; he always did.

Master Splinter was meditating again, trying to connect to Fuzzy through the cosmos. Lycurgus had tried to help, but his meditative skills were not as good as their father's, and he had to make sure Raghu didn't try to search outside the darkest parts of the night.

Raghu slashed at a sand-filled bag with his knife, spilling its contents. Lycurgus glared at him; once again, Raghu had destroyed training equipment that was hard to find and fix. "Shut up, Fearless," Raghu growled, feeling the glare at the back of his neck. The leader shook his head and put his hand on his brother's shoulder, turning him around. He then pulled back and signed to his second-in-command.

"Spar with me instead."

Raghu shrugged and attacked without warning – but Lycurgus was ready for this tactic and ducked away. He circled his brother, using his agility and speed to keep one step ahead of the hothead. Raghu was predictable, and the eldest allowed him to wear himself out trying to hit a target that was never in the same place long. Eventually, Raghu was swearing and resorting to dirty fighting, He caught Lycurgus once in the stomach with a lucky punch, and the eldest retaliated by throwing Raghu into a wall. It was padded, but the jar was just enough to hurt.

"Control your anger," Lycurgus signed as Raghu gathered himself. The eldest was barely breathing hard; Raghu was panting. "You're just going to wear yourself out."

"Says you." Raghu roared and dove for his brother; they rolled, wrestling, on the mats. Raghu landed on top, which was bad news for the eldest. Four inches shorter and thinner, Lycurgus was no match for his brother once strength came into play. He struggled but the eldest merely sat on his chest and pinned his arms with his feet.

"I win." The leader nodded in defeat, and Raghu stood, offering Lycurgus a hand. They cooled off with some stretching, and Raghu admitted to himself that he felt better. He suspected that his brother had let him win, but he didn't mind – a win was a win, after all.

Donovan poked his head in – it was time for patrol, and hopefully, they'd find their little brother.

_~~Elsewhere~~_

Kristen set the tray down on the rock; Apollo watched her from the water warily. They had come far in the past week, though the turtle still avoided direct contact. He would readily eat food from her hand, and even responded to being called by name – sometimes. Kristen had used a Tarzan-technique in teaching him his name, but he picked it up fairly quickly.

"Dinner time, Apollo." Kristen sat near the food; not quite close enough to touch, but close enough for her. The turtle hated John with a vengeance and attacked whenever the man entered the enclosure; he barely tolerated Juliet and the various technicians. Only Kristen was allowed to be within ten feet of the turtle; it had taken many days of patience to earn his trust. She was hoping he would initiate contact today.

He climbed out of the water, shook himself off like a dog, and sat down next to the tray, examining the food with interest. Today, Kristen had decided to branch out a little in the turtle's diet – it needed more protein – and had included cubes of cooked ham, turkey, chicken, beef, and a pile of fresh and dried insects. The turtle blinked at the insects and carefully chose one, sniffing the large grasshopper. He popped it in his large mouth and chewed; his eyes widened and he spat it out quickly.

"I don't like them, either," Kristen chuckled. "But you need protein."

_Pizza…_ Fuzzy thought with longing, diving into the ham and turkey. He finished the tray, leaving the insects for the real turtles that had been introduced into his cage; he tossed the bugs into the water and his little cousins eagerly snapped them up. They were all red eared sliders, and Mahfuz supposed they were supposed to comfort him. He did like them – he had named them things like "Spot" and "Buddy," having had no pets before to name ridiculously – but they just reminded him of what these humans saw him as.

Fuz eyed Kristen, who showed no signs of moving. She seemed content to sit on the rock, turned slightly away, watching the turtles in the pool. He admitted to himself that he kind of liked her – she was nice, and brought him good treats when she visited. However, he also hated her – and her friends the scientists – for how they were treating him. It was a strange dichotomy – and he mentally made a note to tell Donovan that he knew what "dichotomy" meant when he was rescued.

"Do you like the turtles? They're supposed to make you feel a little more at home. If you'd just tell us what you wanted, we could arrange it," Kristen said quietly. "I doubt you enjoy sitting around all day."

Mahfuz was actually having the time of his life, except for the whole captured-by-humans thing. He got to each as much as he wanted – it was all salad and fruit thus far, but the meat gave him hope that he'd get real food soon – and he could just laze about all day. He would like to have comics, and he'd like to be home with his brothers, but other than that… He focused on the good in his situation. For example, the humans could be experimenting on him. Fuzzy was grateful they had seemed content to observe him for now.

Kristen shifted slightly and Mahfuz admired her figure, as he was wont to do when she sat profile to him. She was beautiful in a semi-deadly way; he had no doubt she could, if she wanted to, pin him to the rock if he acted up. Brilliant and confidant, too; witty and charming, when she was in a good mood. And obviously not disgusted by him – but he wondered is utter fascination was just as bad. He wanted to be treated like any normal human being… Albeit a super handsome one.

_What is this, Stockholm syndrome or something? _Fuz asked himself, mentally shaking his head at his own foolishness. It was rare that he got to admire a human female's figure – most, at night, were too scared to stick around, let alone strike a provocative pose, and bundled up in jackets anyway. He knew Karai was a stunner – but she was always trying to kill him and his brothers, and hate turned her into something ugly. TV commercials for underwear were exciting, but it was nothing like the real thing. Raghu had sneaked himself out to strip club once, watching from a dark corner; he'd told Mahfuz because they used to share everything. Now the hothead was just angry and attached to Gus like a burr.

Fuz sighed; his lot in life was to always be a virgin. He wondered briefly if Donovan would entertain the thought of genetically mutating a female turtle – or four. He had the Utrom technology, after all, and was super smart. But, no… Not only would Sensei forbid it, but it would be cruel to take an innocent creature and make it aware of how unfair the world truly is.

_I just had a philo-social moment, _Fuz thought to himself. _Thinking too much is bad for me. I need mindless video games. My brain's smartening up! I'm gonna sound like Don soon. _He shuddered at the thought of spending hours – even whole days – in a lab, with only a computer and creepy science tools to keep him company.

Kristen was closer – when had she moved? Mahfuz eyed her; she was being particularly quiet today, but her posture was completely open. Did she want him to initiate contact? Was she just thinking and had shifted unintentionally? She often sat by the door of the cage, watching him thoughtfully, for hours. In some ways, she was a lot like Don. Kristen was always on guard around him, ready to retreat if he was uncomfortable. But recently, she had been getting lax – and Fuz found himself relaxing more in her presence as well. At first, he had suspected more drugged food, but after ignoring a meal and feeling the same effects, he determined it was merely her demeanor. She seemed to make all his worries melt away just be being nearby.

_Well, not really… Though I bet this place would make a cool Dali painting… All melty… _Fuz shook himself again; his thoughts were wandering.

Mahfuz stared at the human as she scooted just a tiny bit closer. She was really invading his personal bubble; he could almost hear it straining to keep her out. Unnerved, Fuzzy decided it was time for a swim. Kristen sighed as he slid back into the water, his plastron scraping against the rock, and took the tray on her way out. Fuzzy shook his head to himself; she didn't really think they were friends, or whatever, right? He was a captive turtle; she was keeping him locked up.

Kristen shook her head as she put the tray in the dirty dishes bin next to the door. She had spooked the turtle away – moved too quickly. Berating herself, she joined her colleagues in the Observation Room. It was a buzz of activity. "What's going on?" she asked Juliet in an undertone.

The harried-looking woman gestured to John. "He says we're going to start taking some samples. The turtle has had enough time to get comfortable and unstressed. You've gained a lot of trust – but we noticed he still keeps his distance, which is unfortunate. We may have to sedate him for collection."

Kristen let her finish and then shook her head. "He's still too spooked. If we start now, Apollo won't trust _any_one, including me."

"I know that," Juliet snapped. Kristen didn't take offense; it was obvious the scientist wasn't mad at _her_. "Talk to John."

"Deep breath," Kristen advised soothingly. She smiled, got a shaky smile in return. "John!" The man turned to her and looked down. "You can't start gathering samples yet. He's still too spooked. I always give a freshly-caught wild animal two to three weeks to get used to an enclosure before introducing guests in zoos. The same thing should apply here. Maybe even longer, because he's so intelligent."

She'd lost him; he'd turned away at the mention of "spooked" and was talking to an intern. He turned back when she was quiet. "You've gotten nowhere with him. We are doing it my way." It was clear from his tone of voice that he was the boss. "This is not your precious zoo. This creature is possibly the only one of its kind. We were given it to study, and our employer wants results. It's had plenty of time to acclimate, especially if it's as intelligent as we believe. You can either help or get out of the way." He marched off and Kristen glared at his back. She hurried out of the room, running to the enclosure.

She was already too late; Apollo was cornered, three burly interns armed with leashes and stun guns, just in case, surrounding him. Kristen yelled at them to stop, and Apollo looked at her. The men took advantage of his inattention to dare tackling him, albeit carefully. They bore him down under sheer weight and quickly injected him with a calming drug. Apollo's hands were tied together, his feet hobbled, and a collar around his neck – embossed with his name, Kristen noticed absently – before she could interfere.

John strode in as Apollo succumbed to the drug; he drooped, fighting to stay awake. Kristen locked eyes with the turtle, noticing for the first time that they were a baby blue, bright in the light from the artificial sun above them. She swore she saw pain and terror in those eyes and immediately felt the same connection with him as a fellow sentient being. Just as starving children with swollen bellies in Africa elicited donations, so this creature's obvious agony made her want to shield him from her colleagues. She turned on her heel and marched out of the room with an apologetic look at the turtle. The last thing she wanted was for Apollo to think she was part of the drugging committee.

John saw the short connection and smirked slightly to himself. Kristen was getting involved too much with the beast; he'd have to cut her loose soon. For now, though, he had to work on gathering samples from the creature. It was nearly unconscious, and his three chosen men picked it up carefully and carried it out to the waiting stretcher. They lay it on its plastron, tying its hands to the solid steel supports. They wrapped two thick leather belts over its back and legs so it wouldn't move around when it woke. The table was meant to support and keep still large cats, so John figured it would be strong enough for the turtle's weight.

They wheeled the creature – Kristen had named it Apollo, but John mentally referred to it as "Number 1" in what he hoped would a long line of mutants – into the room set up for collection. They strapped a custom-made mask over the beast's muzzle, pumping in oxygen and a mix of soothing chemicals to keep it sedated while the scientists worked. Nevertheless, they did so quickly but professionally. Keeping a creature they knew nothing about under sedation for a long period could prove harmful to it.

They collected tissue samples, bone marrow samples, shell and plastron scrapings, and as much blood – for the DNA in the white blood cells, since the red didn't carry much at all – as John was comfortable with. They also examined the creature's shell and plastron, noting the scars. They photographed each one for further analysis; a specialist cast impressions of its teeth and mouth, three fingers and toes, and even its shell. John finally announced that their time was up and the creature's gas mask was removed.

The three burly interns took him back to his enclosure, leaving him on his rock with the collar still on. It was a beautiful piece, John thought; he'd even had it engraved with "Apollo" to please Kristen. The leather was stiff enough to resist bending too much and cutting off the creature's air, strong enough to withstand being clawed at, and beautifully tooled. The steel wires running through it, and the steel loop that a leash could attach to at both the front and back, made it extra durable and useful.

_~~Later~~_

Mahfuz woke suddenly as he hit the water. He came up spluttering, almost cursed, and then remembered where he was. Raghu hadn't played a joke and dumped him in the stream in the lair; he was in his enclosure. Something stiff and heavy lay on his neck; he couldn't see it, but his hands found a thick leather collar with indents around it and two heavy loops of steel. _A collar,_ he sighed to himself. _I'm not a damn dog. _

Fuz climbed out of the pool and shook himself off, feeling a little chilled. Climbing onto his rock, he assessed the damage. _Woozy, so they prolly took blood… A few plastron and shell scrapings… Some skin… Not bad, considering. _Fuz shook his head. His brothers needed to come rescue him, and soon. What could be taking so long? _This _was why Donovan had developed implanted tracking devices. Lycurgus had objected because they looked nasty and Fearless didn't like the idea of having anything under his skin – and he did bring up a good point that their enemies might figure out how to track them through the capsules.

Mahfuz pulled at the leather, leaving deep scratches and bruises on his own neck and he tried to wrestle it off. He even tried soaking it and drying it several times over the next few hours, seeing if he could make the leather weak somehow.

An impersonal technician brought in his food, left it on the rock, and scurried back out; Fuzzy watched him warily the whole time. Once he was gone, a hungry Fuzzy gobbled up the ham slices and salad. The real turtles appreciated the lettuce leaves he crumbled up for them. Fed, exhausted, and lonely, Mahfuz lay on the rock, staring at the water and his little cousins as they swam about.


	3. A Trial of Trust

_Thanks for the reviews! I got some time now that I'm settled in college, so I hope to be updating more and maybe starting a new story. We'll see. If you have any ideas for this story, I'd love to hear them!_

_Disclaimer: See Chaps 1 & 2._

**Chapter 3: A Trial of Trust**

Kristen sighed. Apollo wasn't letting her anywhere near him; he stayed at the opposite end of the pool when she sat on his rock. "I didn't want them to do it," she told him quietly. "They hired me to make sure you were comfortable and didn't get too stressed, but then they don't listen to me…" Now she was just ranting to herself. _Apollo doesn't need to hear an angry voice. He needs soothing. I need to regain his trust. _She took a deep breath and banished her anger and frustration, focusing only on getting Apollo to trust her again.

Kristen sat with her back to the pond and hummed softly. She flitted through her favorite country tunes, intermixing them with Disney songs as well. Suddenly, as she hummed through Aladdin's "Friend like Me," she felt Apollo just behind her, listening avidly. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she shifted until she could see him out of the corner of her eye. His eyes were nearly closed, and he seemed to be crooning. Kristen dropped her voice to just barely above a whisper, and sure enough, he was humming along, albeit almost silently.

Apollo glanced up at her, the sound stopped, and he tucked his hands under his chin, watching her.

"You're way too smart to get caught talking, aren't you?" Kristen murmured. "I was thinking you were just about as smart as a dolphin, but… You've got to be more intelligent than that." Apollo merely watched her quietly and she sighed again. "I hate humans sometimes."

Apollo's eyes registered surprise; Kristen smiled as he quickly wiped the expression from his face. She was learning to read him well. "You must hate us, too. Here we are, keeping you in a cage… We don't even know if you like salad, or if you like the turtles, or where you came from… We assumed you were owned by a human, but what if you lived by yourself? Are there more of you? You seem too… gentle… to survive on your own."

Apollo continued to watch her, refusing to respond. She could see the tips of his mouth curving upward as she spoke, though he was trying to hide it. It was clear he could understand her. "Or are you an alien species which just happens to resemble our red eared slider so quickly." She chuckled; she didn't believe that an alien species that managed to get into Earth would allow itself to be captured so easily.

"I need you to trust me. I can't help you if you don't help yourself." _I sound like a good-cop/bad-cop all in one,_ Kristen mused. "If you just talked to me, I could protect you better. They took pictures, all kinds of samples last time, and once they start cataloguing your DNA, they're going to want more." Apollo stiffened at the mention of the sample collection. "They're going to give you intelligence tests and all sorts of invasive procedures. They're not going to dissect you – yet – but they'll get close." Was it her imagination or did he get pale when she mentioned dissection?

Apollo shifted slightly closer, sitting up and drawing his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his calves. He was very limber, Kristen noted as she turned to face him. He watched her carefully. It was the basic fetal position for a human, and with his shell, Apollo would be difficult to injure sitting like that. His quiet eyes locked onto hers and Kristen felt herself unable to look away. There was pain deep in those eyes, fear that communicated itself more clearly than Kristen had ever seen. Apollo was scared to death of being dissected.

"If you would just talk to me, they'll see you as a sentient creature… And hopefully will see how barbaric their actions are," Kristen muttered, making sure she couldn't be heard on the camera.

Apollo shifted slightly, hiding his head in his knees. Kristen sighed; it was the classic "go away and leave me alone" posture for a child, and clearly he was imitating it.

"I can't."

The voice was deep and masculine, hoarse from non-use, and deadly serious. Kristen started; it had come from Apollo. He hadn't moved a single muscle; only her response would have told the people watching from the Observation Booth that something was different. She quickly smoothed out her facial features and whacked at her arm as though bitten by a mosquito. Hopefully that would explain her starting to whoever was watching.

She had expected his voice to be higher; in her mind, she had daydreamed that Apollo would come to trust her and speak of his own accord. Kristen didn't know why he was doing it now, but she waited for him to say more.

There was a hint of hatred in his voice when he spoke again. "I will not be a pet for your tests. I will fight every single time they come to take me away." His accent was, strangely enough, from New York. Alligators in the sewer, indeed. "Humans will start dying." Apollo looked up at Kristen; she gulped at the expression in those eyes now.

Carefully, moving her lips as little as possible, Kristen asked, "Why don't you cooperate? They just want to learn about you."

He smiled slightly and tucked his head back down. "No, they don't. They want to use my… unique abilities… to enhance their own lives. Who wouldn't want to be a turtle?" Kristen grinned; maybe not a turtle, but she knew many people who would love to genetically grow claws, or wings, or other animal appendages. "I'm just a freak to them." He said the work "freak" as though it was the most insulting thing in the world – which, Kristen reflected, it probably was, to him. "They don't care that I love pizza or comic books. Do you?"

Kristen decided humor would be best in dealing with the young-sounding turtle. Apollo sounded to be about mid-teens, his voice just done cracking. If turtles' voices cracked through puberty… If he was done with puberty. Kristen knew almost nothing about him. _Well, I know two things. He loves pizza and comic books. _

"Like Silver Centurion?" Kristen asked almost silently. Apollo chuckled very softly at that. "I don't know much about them," she admitted.

"Hm." Apollo looked up again, baring his teeth slightly and uncoiling. For the first time, up close, Kristen noticed how much muscle the turtle had. Each limb was clearly defined, the muscles rippling under his skin as he straightened. His two toes flexed and gripped the rock. She shot a glance over her shoulder; John was in the doorway.

"Kristen, come here." It was clearly an order; Kristen bristled. Chivalry be damned, but no one ordered her around. Apollo, behind her, shifted and moved up behind her.

"Don't move." The command was whisper-silent and came from the turtle; Kristen froze and then squeaked as he jumped in front of her without seeming to exert himself at all. Apollo watched John silently, but there was an obvious challenge in his pose. _Like he owns me and is fending off a rival male form his territory,_ Kristen noted.

"Back," John snarled, advancing. Kristen could see Apollo shift his feet slightly, his three fingers balling up into a mean-looking fist. John noticed and stopped, then pressed the red button every person who came into the cage had. It would summon the pair of guards outside and they were inside, flanking John, within a second.

"Kristen, get away from it." Kristen didn't move.

"Why are you here, John?" she asked instead, defiance in her tone. "I was getting somewhere with Apollo. You're invading his territory."

"It's to be moved to another facility. Our employer isn't satisfied with our results." Apollo shifted again. Kristen wished she could see his eyes so she could read his expression. "Now tell it to stand down or I'm going to have to sedate it again."

Apollo growled as the two guards moved forward. Kristen squeaked again as one of them jumped forward, armed with a stun baton; faster than she could follow, Apollo neatly ducked under the man's weapon and brought a fist into the side of his head. He fell silently and Apollo moved back towards Kristen, never taking his eyes from John.

"Just full of surprises, aren't you?" John growled, cursing under his breath. He ordered the other guard to get the unconscious – or dead – one out of the cage and call for backup. John retreated as well, closing the door. Kristen was sure he was fuming on the other side of the door, waiting for more guards to show up.

"Are you okay, Apollo?" It was a stupid question; Apollo couldn't possibly be okay. "It's okay; the big bad man is gone now." She was merely speaking for the cameras now; her voice was soothing again. Apollo turned around and Kristen caught the hint of smile again. He understood what she was doing. "Come here, that's it."

Apollo neatly folded himself into a kneeling position next to her right knee, conveniently hiding his face from the cameras in all four corners of the room.

"He's an asshole."

Kristen almost laughed; the turtle sounded very sincere, and she couldn't help but agree.

"Apollo, did you kill that guard?" Though she whispered, Kristen was honestly worried; she hated killing anything, though she admitted to herself that humans deserved it sometimes.

"Mahfuz."

"What?"

"My name. It's Mahfuz."

"… That's... A great name."

Another chuckle greeted her hesitant response. "Fuz, then."

"Fuz… I prefer Apollo."

He grinned, showing off his huge teeth. Kristen knew they were human-like, meant both for cutting and chewing, but they were so big they would have unnerved her if she didn't work with big animals a lot.

"I don't get to see the sun a lot, so… Apollo isn't really that great."

"Good point," Kristen conceded with a smile. Where would he live that he couldn't see the sun? Kristen thought about having to live in eternal darkness and winced mentally. Or maybe he had fire? But being unable simply to throw open a window and enjoy sunshine… Without thinking about it, she reached over and patted his shoulder as if she were a friend.

He stiffened slightly and she snatched her hand back quickly; he shook himself a little and murmured, "Not often a human touches me," in way of explanation. "Usually they're trying to hurt me if they do…" His voice was reflective.

"Sorry, I didn't think." Kristen berated herself for letting her guard down. Kind or not, sentient or not, Fuz was still not entirely human, and his instincts – not to mention how fast he could move – might have caused him to do worse than merely stiffen. Even humans reacted to being touched unexpectedly.

"It's okay." He leaned towards her slightly and she took the hint, gently patting his shoulder again. "It itches," he explained quietly. Kristen smiled softly and scratched at the edge of the skin where it met shell; Fuz sighed in pleasure.

She traced her hand down his shell; he didn't react as she explored the scars marring the brown shell. It was obvious that he did need more nutrition; the shell was slightly soft in one spot. She bit her lip, worried; if Fuz was taken away to another place, she might not be able to check on him.

"Can I examine you? You've a soft spot." Kristen spoke soothingly, as though she wasn't really asking for permission but merely talking to keep him calm. He nodded and she moved behind him to look closely at the damage on his shell. "Just be a good boy. I'm just checking something." She pushed gently on the spot; he grunted softly to let her know it hurt.

"You just need more calcium, buddy. You'll be fine. Maybe we'll try some oranges, broccoli, and salmons. See which one you like the most." Kristen sat back up on the rock and smiled at Fuz.

Just then, John came stomping back in with five guards behind him. Fuz was on his feet instantly, standing in front of Kristen.

"You're pissing him off," Kristen warned John. "Just let me do this. He trusts me now." She stood up and, praying Fuz wouldn't attack her, gently took hold of his shoulder. "See?" Fuz glanced at her and then looked back at John. "Just hand me the leash and show me where to go."

Kristen moved to John, since it was clear Fuz didn't want the man anywhere near him, and took the thick steel chain from his hands. It had a clip on one end and she attached this to Fuz's collar at the front. Fuz let her, and she gave him an apologetic glance as she turned back around to face John.

"You can't control him," John said. "Guards, secure him. Be careful."

Two of the five moved to come up behind Fuz; Kristen felt him stiffen behind her. She gently yanked on the chain to get his attention and glared at him. If he resisted, things would go downhill quickly. It was clearly hard for him, but Fuz didn't attack the two men when they grabbed his arms and yanked them behind his shell, though he grunted in pain when they tied his wrists together. They hobbled him again and attached another leash to the back ring of his collar.

"Better." John smirked and sauntered up to the small mutant. "Not so tough now, are you, big guy?"

Kristen saw the calculating look in Fuz's eyes just a moment too late; with a surge of power, Fuz snapped his head forward, cracking his thick skull on John's nose. John gasped in pain and fell down, one hand automatically reaching up to stem the flow of blood. The five guards reacted just a shade too slow as well; they bore Fuz, who wasn't resisting any more, to the floor, kicking him in the sides.

Kristen grabbed at one of the guards. "Stop that! You're going to injure him!"

They five shuffled back eventually; Fuz was curled up again, trying to protect his sensitive sides from the beating. She ordered the guards back and told one to check on the groaning John. Carefully, Kristen touched his shell; he jerked and hissed at her. She pulled him to his feet gently, noticing the bruises already starting to form. His mouth was bleeding; she gently pried his jaws apart, despite warnings from the guards, and inspected the cut where he had bit his tongue.

"You'll be okay," she told him quietly. "Just be good."

She felt along his sides, though he didn't want her to and kept shifting away. Thankfully, the guards hadn't punctured the thinner skin, and there would only be some nasty bruises.

John stood, a piece of someone's lunch napkin stuffed in his nostrils. He glared at the turtle and Fuz ducked behind Kristen, letting John think he was cowed. "Get him outta here," John growled, motioning to the guards to take care of it. Two grabbed the leashes, one yanking it out of Kristen's hands, and the other three surrounded the turtle as they headed for the doorway. Kristen trotted to keep up, ignoring John thoroughly.

They wound through hallways, up one level, across the compound, and to the loading dock. A cage barely big enough to stand up in waited in the back of a semi-truck, welded to the bottom of the box. They shoved Mahfuz in and tied his leashes to the cage so he couldn't sit down. Kristen tried to protest but was "escorted" to the truck's passenger side. The new facility didn't have anyone who knew the creature, and Kristen fit the bill, so she was being transferred.

_What if I don't want to be?_ she thought angrily. But she knew she wouldn't complain; she had to protect Fuz as much as possible. She climbed into the passenger seat and the driver started the truck with a roar. He carefully maneuvered through the security checkpoints until they were on the open road; Kristen checked on Fuz with the cameras set up in the cab. He looked to be okay, but probably very uncomfortable.

Behind them, though Kristen couldn't see it, the facility so recently her home imploded, sending tons of fiery concrete down on the guards and scientists inside. On a nearby hill overlooking the destruction, Karai smiled tightly. The fool scientists would not hamper her progress with understanding – and then destroying – the creature any longer. She sent her ninjas into the wreckage to find and dispatch any survivors. They all disappeared as a fire truck appeared, probably summoned by someone living in the mountains behind the fiery blaze that was a top-secret research facility.


	4. A New Location

_Thanks for reviewing!_

**Chapter 4: A New Location**

Mahfuz rocked slowly side to side. _Kinda like being in a boat… I guess… Oooo, not feeling good…_ Mahfuz closed his eyes, though it didn't matter in the dimly-lit interior of the box truck. He couldn't even sit down and put his head between his knees like they did in movies.

He leaned against the collar again; it was tied to the cage in such a way that he couldn't lean against the walls of the cage or sit down. Fuz could stand for hours at a time – Sensei's training saw to that – without moving a muscle, but in a rocking truck that was harder. His calves and thighs were starting to ache from constantly shifting to keep himself from falling and possibly choking on the collar.

After what seemed to be a thousand million years, the truck finally stopped suddenly, throwing Mahfuz against his collar. He struggled to stand back up as his legs began cramping and managed to scoot into a position that allowed him to breathe, at least.

The truck backed up, throwing him off again, and then the door was thrown open. Four burly men filed in, silently unchained the leashes from the cage, and then tugged on them until Fuz walked out of the truck. Kristen took a leash from one of the mute guards and gently led Fuz, with the guards' guidance, to the new cage.

Mahfuz looked around while they were walking. He was too tired and his legs hurt too much to think about fighting, and he didn't want to get Kristen in trouble. He wanted to show them that he trusted Kristen, which would only improve her standing and might get the new scientists to listen to her if he needed things. A proper toilet would be nice, for starters…

The room the group led him into looked like a giant jungle, with a waterfall to the right of the door that fed a stream. Mahfuz looked around; if he was in captivity, at least it was in style. Kristen ordered the guards out and took the leashes and hobbles off silently.

"It's going to be harder here," she murmured. "I talked to the driver on the way over… They're going to results one way or another. You need to be on your best behavior or it's going to get ugly. I'll try to be with you every step of the way."

"Thanks," Fuz muttered. He wasn't sure he was actually grateful, since she would essentially be helping more scientists poke and prod him, but maybe she could keep them from hurting him too badly. Of course, that might not be possible. Now that he was moved, maybe his brothers would have a harder time finding him as well. They hadn't found him in the time he was at the first place, and that had been probably two weeks. _They must be going crazy,_ Fuz mused.

Kristen left him to get accustomed to his new cage and Fuz explored it carefully. He found all the cameras and, with a trick Don taught him, plotted the "safe" places where they couldn't see. The floor was dirt, and he dug a few inches deep in it before hitting the solid concrete underneath. The trees and shrubs were real, and the stream led to a fairly deep pool. This one wasn't stocked with un-mutated turtles, but it was cool and clean. Mahfuz took a swim to think and sat at the bottom of the pool. Of his brothers, he was the best at holding his breath. He sat there for about an hour, watching the water around him and calming his mind.

Fuz missed his family something fierce, and would give his entire comic book collection just to see them again. He'd give anything to be free of the scientists and back in the lair. The water around him was too clean to be from his home, but if he closed his eyes, Fuz could almost imagine he was in the ocean with his family, far from humans' beaches, playing in the surf as toddlers. They'd find sea glass, bits of plastic, sometimes useful things like wood pieces or a kid's toy that had been lost up-stream.

Eventually, Fuz wandered out of the water and onto a rock under a big heat lamp. The heat quickly dried him and soothed his still-sore legs; then he just basked, occasionally shifting in boredom. He was quickly getting tired of this "vacation" and his stomach rumbled, too. He hadn't had anything to eat and dreamily pictured potato chips, the Lays kind with the baked potato flavor, pizza with sardines and extra cheese, and a nice cold glass of milk. Or maybe soda… Yeah, he would seriously hurt someone for a soda. He started drooling at the thought.

Kristen walked in with two lunches; Mahfuz sat up to greet her with a small smile, trying to stay positive despite the ever-mounting pressures and fears. She gave him his lunch – another salad with cubed ham – and sat down to eat her own with him. Fuz snuck a peek at her lunch and nearly drooled – she had real root beer, like in a glass bottle and everything, and a slice of pizza. It was just too much and he grumpily ate his salad. At least he'd lose some of the baby fat he had hung onto that Lycurgus was always needling him for.

Kristen left quickly, not speaking to him. Fuz returned to his rock to bask, dozing lightly.

_~~Elsewhere~~_

"God damn it, Ly!" Raghu punched the concrete on which he crouched. "Don said this was the spot!"

"Apparently it blew up," Donovan noted. "Look here – these burn marks mean an accelerant was used."

"What happened?" Lycurgus signed shortly. Donovan looked around.

"We've been here too long already; we need to go. Fuz wasn't here when it blew up, though. We'd have found… something." Don swallowed, but at least they hadn't found his body… There was still hope their little brother was alive.

"Now what, Braniac?" Raghu snarled. "We just go back? It took you _two weeks_ to get into the files of this lab. What if the next one is smarter? What if they just dissected him and blew up the evidence?"

Donovan took a deep breath. "From what I read, Raghu, these scientists were not planning on being blown up. Nor were they planning on dissecting him. The reports I read indicated that he was being held in a terrarium to accustom him to it before they began taking samples, and that only happened once."

"Is it too much to assume they wrote a memo about where they would take him next?" Lycurgus signed, putting a hand on Raghu's shoulder to hold him back and comfort him.

Donovan shrugged in response. "Probably. If they'd known the plan, we wouldn't be finding evidence of bodies." The actual bodies had probably been recovered by the humans. Donovan was fascinated by their attachment to the dead. Not that he had much experience with it, and none whatsoever when it came to close friends or family, but… A dead thing was dead, right? It didn't care if it was six feet under or scattered in the bellies of scavengers.

"Let's follow the road out and see if we can find any clues," Lycurgus suggested silently. Raghu tromped off without a word, using the thick forest to the south for cover. They followed the road until it met up with a major highway, and then Lycurgus forced a halt. He wanted to continue, but as Donovan pointed out, it was nearing sunrise and they were more likely to be spotted near a large highway. It had taken two nights of careful travel to get to the burned-out husk of a laboratory, and would take at least that to get back to the lair.

As dawn peaked on the horizon, Lycurgus and his two brothers hunkered down within view of the former lab, hiding within bushes. It was a rare treat to be out in the sunshine, but none of the brothers were even thinking about it. They were fixed on the road and burned buildings, hoping someone might come by and give them an idea of where they could have taken Mahfuz.

Around noon, Lycurgus ordered his brothers to sleep. They agreed to try, but all three knew they wouldn't. The day slowly ticked by as Lycurgus watched over his two remaining brothers and stayed alert for signs of encroachers.

Dusk was settling before anyone appeared. A truck drove into the clearing, greyish white with four doors and full-size bed. Lycurgus signaled his brothers, just in case, and watched the occupants climb out. One was a woman; her shapely figure exposed by her thin-strap cocktail dress, a light grey in the evening light, teased at his memory. The man who got out of the driver's side was dressed in a deep blue or black suit.

Lycurgus's mind suddenly supplied an answer; it was Karai. He signaled his brothers to attack, drawing his katanas silently. He rushed towards Karai with Raghu while Donovan attacked the man. They weren't prepared for an attack and so weren't able to put up much of a defense. Don knocked out the man with a solid blow to the head; Karai was half-way to the truck, where she probably had a gun, when Lycurgus struck her in the back and knocked her into the front fender.

Raghu grabbed her head and bounced it off the hood before letting her fall to the ground. Karai groaned and rolled to her feet; Lycurgus seized her hands from behind and yanked her to her knees. Donovan trussed the man up and stood next to Raghu.

"Where is our brother?" Raghu growled, glaring at the woman. She looked to be in her thirties, with jet-black hair as straight as a board and dark brown eyes. Her body was lithe and moved lightning-fast, as they had found out several times.

Karai merely grinned and shrugged. She wasn't scared of them, and she knew they wouldn't kill an unarmed prisoner. It was against their precious code.

That didn't leave out injuring, though; faster than she could react, Raghu was at her throat, holding a sharp blade to it. "I'll ask you one more time, bitch. Where is he?"

"I'm surprised you found this facility. Good thing we moved the freak."

Donovan stiffened and Raghu, without thinking, lashed out, slicing Karai's shoulder and causing the dress to sag, exposing the top of her breast. At the same time, anticipating his brother's reaction, Lycurgus yanked Karai backwards, saving her from a deeper goring. Raghu snarled.

"Touchy, touchy. Is that any way to treat a lady?"

"Yer as much a lady as _Ah_ am," Raghu growled.

"You know, it's usually the ones that insist they're really badass who are gay," Karai mused.

This time, Raghu shrugged. Clearly this reaction surprised Karai; she tried baiting him again, calling him a sissy. Lycurgus and Raghu grinned at each other and then Raghu punched Karai in the stomach. "It's use'lly the ones who think bein' gay's a bad thing who _are_," Raghu shot back. "Now tell me where our brother is, Karai. Or I will kill you, honor be damned."

Karai recovered her breath quickly and smirked at the turtle towering over her. "Like I said, he's been moved. It took you two weeks to find him this time; what say we lay a wager?" She looked at Donovan, who glared at her with hatred in his eyes. "You won't find him before… Hm, say, three weeks from now? So, about mid-June. Of course, he could well be dead by then."

Raghu snorted and glanced at Lycurgus. The leader hesitated and then nodded; Raghu smirked and took a serrated blade from the bandolier across his chest. Before Karai could react, he knelt and drove it through her injured shoulder, sawing back and forth to get through the tough muscle and sinew. Karai gasped in pain and screamed as Lycurgus slapped a green hand over her mouth.

Raghu leaned back, surveying his handiwork. The arm hung limply, dripping red blood onto the dirt. "Ah doubt you'll use it again," he remarked calmly to Karai. She glared through tears of pain. Lycurgus released her hands and Raghu stood up. "We really should kill her," he murmured to the leader; Lycurgus shook his head.

"I'd listen to him. I could order your brother's death… Slowly, by dissection. Those scientists are so hard to control sometimes. Accidents happen."

Karai gasped again as Raghu drove another knife into the woman, this time into her gut. She would probably survive, but it would be a long recovery.

"Let's go," Raghu said gruffly, turning around. He kicked the man in the head for good measure and disappeared into the night with his brothers. Lycurgus and Donovan followed, leaving Karai to bleed out or get help.


End file.
